


So Familiar a Gleam

by sunspot (unavoidedcrisis)



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games)
Genre: Banter, Beards (Facial Hair), Canon-Typical Violence, Dialogue Heavy, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-03
Updated: 2020-09-03
Packaged: 2021-03-07 03:20:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,156
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26260051
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/unavoidedcrisis/pseuds/sunspot
Summary: Leliana sends her old friend Zevran to spring Thom Rainier from prison.
Relationships: Zevran Arainai/Blackwall | Thom Rainier
Comments: 15
Kudos: 15
Collections: Black Emporium 2020





	So Familiar a Gleam

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Wintertree](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wintertree/gifts).



"I've seen you somewhere before, have I not?"

The man behind the bars doesn't look up from his hands folded in his lap.

Zevran gives him the benefit of the doubt. He's probably not rude, he's just distracted, what with his impending execution… He clears his throat and tries again.

"We've met before, yes?"

"Shove off," the other man growls.

"Ah, so you do know me. That's what all my friends say when I come to call."

Even that's not enough wit to get a reaction from the man. He looks pitiful, now that Zevran can get a good look at him. His beard is scraggly and his clothes are dirty. He's got a few visible bruises. Zevran can't imagine Orelsian prison is very friendly.

"Are you hungry, friend?"

This nets Zevran a meager grunt in response.

"I'm here to take you back to the Inquisition." Zevran is surprised with how quickly the man can move when he rushes the bars.

"Who sent you? What's happening? Am I being remanded? Who sent you?"

"Sister Nightingale, lots of things, I'm not sure what that word means, Sister Nightingale." Zevran rattles off the answers as quickly as the questions had been shot at him.

He picks the heavy lock with minimal stress, even though Leliana's biggest fear was that he'd spend too long fiddling with it, get caught, and she'd have to send someone else to spring them both from prison. Nonsense. His lock picking skills are unmatched these days. Not like they used to be.

They leave unconfronted. Zevran had been mostly expecting some alarm to be raised, but for all the resistance they met, he and the former captive could have waltzed to where he tied the horses.

They barely share any words on the road, just the occasional comment on the upcoming terrain or what the weather looked like it would do and then they're in Skyhold a day and a half of hard riding later -- mission accomplished.

Leliana is highly suspicious that they've been followed, but nothing, no word from Orlais, no sneaky spies stealing into Skyhold to slit throats or make threats.

"Are you going to tell me who you are?"

Zevran ponders that for a second.

"Zevran Arainai, pleased to spring you from prison." He holds out his hand.

The man shakes it, a nice firm handshake as Zevran expected from his… well, everything. "Blackw -- Thom. Just Thom is fine."

Of course, that was all a part of the briefing with Leliana, but Zevran wasn't about to say that . "Understood. See you around, Thom is Fine."

* * *

Zevran hangs around to hear the Inquisitor make a judgement about his new friend, Thom is Fine. Pardoned, of course. He was the Inquisitor's inner circle and Kaaras doesn't seem like the kind to exile or execute his friends. Zevran makes a mental note to get more friends like that.

"Well, how do you feel now? Like a new man, I imagine."

"You're still here?"

"Of course, and so are you. Congratulations are in order."

Thom grumbles. "No, nothing like that. This isn't a good moment, it's… far more complicated than that."

Zevran shrugs. "You escaped the hangman twice in almost as many days. Most would consider at least letting one buy them a drink, especially if one may have had a hand in said escapes."

Thom's eyes narrow. He's thinking about it; Zevran can see the wheels turning.

"One drink."

* * *

The Herald's Rest isn't crowded before midday. Cabot serves them drinks with a scowl that Zevran returns with a sunny smile.

"Why are you like this?"

"Like what?" Zevran asks, already knowing what he's talking about.

"You're…" Thom is obviously weighing the words he wants to say versus what's normally polite to say. "You're very chipper, even when the situation doesn't warrant it."

"Kill them with kindness."

They are quiet, nursing their drinks for a bit and not speaking. Zevran is on tenterhooks, waiting for Thom to say why he agreed to come for a drink. He'd said no, wasn't going to, but then he switched his answer seemingly out of nowhere.

Zevran can feel the tension between them and is fascinated. He thinks Thom's about to say something, to spill his guts, but he is left disappointed.

"Thanks for the drink," Thom says, draining his dregs and standing to leave.

Zevran is more fascinated than ever.

* * *

"You haven't explained why you're still here," Thom says when he happens upon Zevran sitting on a low well outside the barn, munching an apple he swiped from a horse.

"I haven't finished my apple yet."

"Zevran."

"Thom."

"You're impossible."

"Keeps things interesting, no?"

Thom fixes him with a stony stare.

"Oh, all right," Zevran relents. "Leliana asked me to fetch you from that lovely Orelsian palace you were staying in, and to make sure you were okay. I'm just not convinced that you're okay yet."

"I'm touched," Thom says. "But I'm fine. You said so yourself, escaped the hangman twice. Inquisitor Adaar pardoned me, I have my work with the Inquisition. How is that not fine?"

Zevran just shrugs. "I'll know it when I see it. Besides, Leliana might have more work for me if I stay."

* * *

Thom invites him to share a meal a few nights later.

It's almost Zevran's turn to be touched, but it turns out it's just Thom's way to convince him that he no longer needs 'babysitting,' as he calls it -- as if Zevran would willingly spend this much time with a baby.

It may have been a ploy, but there's wine and bread and Zevran won't turn down either of those old friends.

They trade tales of past exploits, of the famous heroes they know, and their faraway homes. The whiskey appears as the wine disappears and the night rolls on. Outside is blackness, but the conversation doesn't falter. At one point, Thom even laughs. 

"Ahh, there we go. Music to my ears. Maybe my work here is done after all?"

Thom cleared his throat and narrowed his eyes. "I thought Leliana had more work for you?"

"I thought you didn't need to be babysat?"

"I don't," Thom says. "But perhaps you're the only one in all this mess I made for myself that treats me like a regular man, instead of a… a man with a past. And that's on me. But it's still… refreshing."

"Refreshing! Good. I'm happy to be such a refreshing drink of water for you, Thom."

A ruddy blush rises above the beard. Zevran's betting the alcohol is to blame, but there's a little bit of himself that preens nonetheless. He knows he's still got it, but it's nice to be reminded every now and then.

* * *

As luck would have it, Leliana finds a job for him. Nothing too dramatic, just some forbidden visiting and borrowing, or 'breaking in and stealing a family heirloom' as a layman would call it. But then she says something very interesting.

"Bring someone to watch your back, if you'd like," she says.

"Thom, friend, it seems your assistance is required. Leliana's orders."

Thom scoffs. "Right, tell me what it is."

"I'd rather not spoil the surprise."

Thom, somehow, goes along with him, and they traipse right up to the nobleman's mansion together. Thom waits outside for the actual thievery, in case a distraction is needed.

Zevran's in the middle of searching a desk in a tucked-away corner of the upstairs when he hears a clatter and a woman's scream. He slides an unsheathed dagger into his hand just in case he needs it, though he's hoping not to. Investigating the noise would take too long and potentially get him involved in something dramatic. Since someone's waiting for him, he'll need to forgo drama.

He spots the ornate locket he was meant to collect and slips it into one of his secret shirt pockets. Zevran steals back to the window he's left unlatched for himself just in time to see Thom's face peering over the sill.

"Okay?"

"Yes. I thought I told you to stay in the garden?" Zevran is actually fairly impressed that Thom managed to get up the trellis that quickly. He's speedy for a big, burly warrior type. He returns his dagger to it's sheath.

"I thought I heard you scream."

"Not me. I heard it too."

Thom frowns and levers himself over the sill and onto the floor, not as gracefully as Zevran had earlier. "We should check it out."

Zevran shakes his head. "More trouble than it's worth."

"Someone could be in trouble." Thom stands firm.

"Exactly, and it may be us."

They flip a coin; Thom calls it in the air. "Druffalo."

It lands druffalo up.

Zevran groans, just a little.

It's a good thing they go to check. There must be a rift nearby, because there's a despair demon lingering in the great hall. The inhabitants of the home are cowering behind an overturned table while the thing wreaks havoc and tries to taunt them into coming out.

Zevran readies his shortsword, glances at Thom to make sure he's ready, and then gives a shout.

The demon wheels in the air and turns on them. It spots their weapons and the fight breaks out instantly.

Zevran gets distracted momentarily by the homeowners shouting nonsense about 'who are you' or something like that. The creature shrieks and casts some sort of demonic spell at Thom, catching him in the shoulder. Zevran skewers it when it takes a moment to cackle. "Don't do that," Zevran warns it.

They make fairly short work of the creature after that, flanking it and slashing viciously. 

"Don't thank us, thank the Inquisition," Zevran tells the family before they hightail it out of the manion, stolen loot still in his pocket.

They take the long way back to Skyhold to avoid most of the travellers on the main roadways. "Thank you for your help," Zevran says.

"I didn't really do much. It had me dead to rights. You saved me."

"Well, thank you for providing such lovely company."

Thom scoffs. "You know, it always sounds like you're flirting with me."

"I am. Naturally." Zevran looks over his shoulder to throw him a disarming smile and finds Thom already very much disarmed and off guard, frowning slightly.

"Oh."

"Indeed."

"Well…"

"Think nothing of it, if you wish," Zevran says, too late; he can see Thom's wheels turning.

"Well…" he says again. The frown is gradually turning into a skeptical smile. There's a gleam in Thom's eyes that is very alluring. Zevran grins.

"Are you sure?" Thom asks.

"What a ridiculous question. You're quite a ridiculous man, with your great bushy beard and your silly questions."

Thom's hand goes to his face. "You don't like the beard?"

"No, no," Zevran says quickly. "The beard is quite good."

"You know," Thom says. He trails off and Zevran's content to leave it at that, but Thom continues, a minute or two later.

"When that demon got me in it's… lure, I felt like all the happiness in my life was draining away."

"Ghastly."

"No but… I didn't realize I had happiness. For the longest time, I didn't. That's changed. And I think I know when, too."

Zevran's pretty good at reading people. This is too pointed not to be headed somewhere. "Oh?"

"So, thank you for that too."

"You're… I'm sure you're at least partially mistaken about my hand in that, but thank you all the same." Zevran's been blamed for many, many, _many_ things in the past, but someone's happiness is not one of them. He'll have to ponder that one for a while.

* * *

The beard, it turns out, is very good. It scratches a little when they kiss, but not unpleasantly. Zevran likes the contrast between the scratchy beard and Thom's soft, full lips.

He also likes the atmosphere up Thom's hayloft. It's a little rustic, but it's private and there's the sound of rain on the tin roof. Lying side by side in the hay, Zevran can look out the window at the cloudy sky and the moon desperately trying to peek through. The smell of bonfire and dried grass mostly overpowers the smell of horse.

"This is nice," Zevran says, when they take a break from kissing.

Thom's laugh rumbles; Zevran can feel it where their sides are pressed together. "It is. Thank you. For everything."

Zevran's not sure he can be thanked for _everything_ , but he's too warm and malleable to start dissecting it.

"You're welcome, Thom. Now, you'll have to move over, I can't feel my arm."

The laugh rumbles again before Thom hauls himself up and throws a leg over Zevran's hips. There's that glint in his eye again, alluring and alive. Zevran feels very lucky he gets to see it up close and personal. He doesn't have time to dwell on it though, because it seems they're going to work on making a bit more happiness tonight.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for Paradigm for betaing <3
> 
> Happy Black Emporium, Wintertree!!


End file.
